Sounds In Silence
by StarCannon
Summary: Post-Ep for Demons. Mulder recounts to Scully why he underwent the ketamine treatment and what happened in Amy Cassandra's childhood home.


The events of the past few days combined with the springs in the couch she bought for price instead of comfort robbed Scully of any chance at a meaningful sleep.

The late night six-hour drive from Quonchontaug had been long and unsettling. Mulder was silent the entire way, a feat Scully previously thought him incapable of achieving. He instead spent the trip curled up underneath her coat, warms wrapped tightly around himself to keep covered under the petite garment as much as possible. The heat was on full blast, though she still noticed him shiver occasionally out of the corner of her eye. She hoped he managed to get any kind of sleep along the way, despite knowing - especially for Mulder - that was highly unlikely.

As the first signs for Annapolis flashed past, Scully ventured to break the silence.

"Mulder."

His eyes rolled groggily open.

"Mulder, we're almost to Annapolis."

After a moment to register where he was, Mulder sat up and hastily rubbed at his eyes. "You should've woken me sooner. I could've taken the last leg."

Scully threw him a sideways glance. "You're not getting behind the wheel of anything for at least the next 48 hours."

Mulder adjusted the angle of the heating vents before snuggling himself back under the coat. "Whatever you say, doc."

"Did you sleep okay?"

To her surprise, he chuckled faintly. "The last time I slept okay, _Bonanza_ was still on the air."

Scully let slip a small, pained smile. It was nice to hear his voice again, though he still did not sound entirely like himself.

"I want you to take my bed tonight."

Mulder's brow twitched curiously as he looked to her. "You're stripping away my couch rights, too?"

"It's not up for debate."

Mulder exhaled, his head thudding as it dropped defeatedly back against the head rest. "I'll owe you one then, Scully."

"One what? You don't have a bed for me to borrow, Mulder."

She waited for a usual witty Mulder-reply, but none came.

Her grip tightened on the steering wheel, strengthening her resolve to get them both through what she thought would be the last forty-five minutes of maddening silence.

Unfortunately she concluded, as she now tossed around uncomfortably on the couch cushions for the hundredth time, it appeared the intruding silence had followed into her apartment, with no intention of leaving any time soon.

It wasn't coherent thoughts that were bothering her, it was more the cycling of memories and the feelings attached to them. The image of Mulder collapsed on the ground in the agonizing minutes it took for him to recover from another ketamine-induced flashback...the apathy in Dr. Goldstein's voice even after she demanded to know where her partner had gone...the tortured look in Mulder's eyes as he aimed his gun at her heart...

The hiss of her kitchen faucet jolted her back to reality. It ran softly for a few seconds, then squeaked off. The silence afterwards was so deafening that Scully could hear Mulder's swallows as he eagerly downed his drink. He exhaled loudly when finished, then quietly pulled the faucet handle back up for a refill.

"Mulder?"

She sat up and watched as the water bubbled to the top of the glass and he shut it off once more. Even from a distance she noticed the gleam of sweat across his forehead, and the shaking in his hand as it drew the glass to his lips.

"You okay?"

He set down his empty glass and leaned against the counter, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't, I was already awake."

He did not stand up from against the counter, or make any attempt to look at her. His chest rose and fell sharply, as though he had just finished a long run.

"What happened?"

Mulder's eyes remained fixed on the kitchen tile as he spoke. "I know you said these memories I'm recalling might not be true. But I think I'm remembering why I was in that house that night. With David and Amy."

Scully sat up straighter, curling her legs underneath herself. "Do you want to talk about it?"

For a moment, she couldn't be sure that he had heard her. He seemed lost in thought, still staring at the floor, his mind hard at work putting pieces together.

Just as she opened her mouth to repeat herself, however, he pushed up to walk towards her. Scully scrambled to the other side of the couch to give him room to sit down. As soon as he was within reach, her hand instinctively wrapped around his forearm. The cool clamminess of his skin was not unexpected, but worried her all the same.

Mulder was still despondent, looking down at the coffee table as he spoke. "David called me. At first I thought he wanted my help. But then I realized she was actually offering help to me."

"Help with...?"

"Samantha," Mulder muttered, almost emotionlessly. "I can't remember how he found me, but he knew what happened to her. He told me about the treatments he and his wife were undergoing. How it was helping them both remember things. That it would be able to help me too."

"What things?"

He closed his eyes, pulling himself further back into the memories, trying to recall every detail. "He claimed to have been abducted for almost a year. He met Amy through a support group of abductees who shared their experiences with each other. They both spent years searching for answers. They found Dr. Goldstein."

"I'm...not sure I'm following. How does this connect to Samantha exactly?"

"During the treatments, David started remembering his time as an abductee. He remembered seeing others. Children." The detachment in Mulder's voice was fading. His hands fidgeted nervously, clenching and unclenching.

"He saw her?"

"Yes. And Amy's brother, too."

"Amy's brother?" Scully struggled to think back to the information on Amy Cassandra she had skimmed through days ago. "Amy didn't have a brother, Mulder."

"Amy was very young when she was abducted. Her older brother interfered. They took him instead."

"Mulder…"

"Her parents decided to deny she had ever had a brother. They removed all evidence he existed. They must've thought she had been too young when it happened to remember. That maybe it would be easier for her that way. But her condition allowed her to be able to hold onto the few memories she had. The Cassandras told me all of this when I met them at Dr. Goldstein's office. When I tried the treatment."

Scully empathetically closed her hand around one of Mulder's clenched fists. "Why didn't you tell me about any of this as it was happening?"

"I didn't want you to talk me out of it."

She wished his hand would respond to her touch the way it usually did. Pulling her closer. Interlacing her fingers in his. But it remained stiff and tightly closed.

"Finding out what happened to Samantha was only part of the reason I did it, Scully. I thought..." Mulder stopped for a moment, reluctant, but then continued, "...I thought if it worked for me, then it could work for you. To help you learn what happened when you were taken."

There was a pause. Scully had no idea what to say.

"Things start to get a little fuzzy after that," Mulder continued, brow furrowing. "I think, later that night...David called me again. He said Amy had been acting hysterical and left. He convinced me to go with him to her childhood home to try to help calm her down, but...it must've been a set up. They knew I was an FBI agent, that I would be armed. Goldstein's treatment had gone too far for both of them, they couldn't deal with it anymore. They ambushed me, took my gun, and...I remember seeing the blood...and a vague memory of driving back to my hotel..."

Scully noticed the brief shine of a newly shed tear in his eye before Mulder bowed his head forward, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, as though the act of remembering was physically painful to him. She moved her hand to his back, her fingertips skirting across the tension there.

"I know what you're thinking, Scully. I know I can't prove any of this is true."

"No, you can't. But, to be honest, that's not what I care about right now."

For the first time, Mulder looked up to meet her gaze. His eyes were reddened and somber with defeat. The dim light of the moon seeping through the curtains seemed to take away years from his face. It reminded her of the first night they spent together in Oregon, when he had made the decision to trust her. The decision that lead to him making such a fantastically reckless choice, as long as it meant there was any chance it could help her too.

"You can't sacrifice yourself now to rectify what happened in the past. The Cassandras learned that the hard way, Mulder. Please don't learn that the hard way. Not for Samantha." She lifted her other hand to his face, ensuring his eyes stayed with hers as she spoke. "And not for me."

Another tear trickled down his cheek and Scully quickly wiped it away with her palm. He closed his eyes again, moving his hand to caress hers at last.

"And I hope you don't blame yourself for not interering in your sister's abduction. If they took you instead of her, the only thing that would change is Samantha would sitting with me on this couch right now."

"I doubt that."

"Why?"

His eyes opened once more, with something new there that she couldn't quite pin down. Regardless of what it was, her heart fluttered in the wake of it as he answered, "I need you more than she ever would."

Scully, unable to think of anything more to say, tugged him closer until he surrendered to her side, head resting on her shoulder and nose nestling into her neck. She let her fingers glide from his back up through the roots of his hair and felt the release of a sigh wash through his body. His arm wrapped around, giving her a squeeze before relaxing loosely at her waist.

The silence felt a little less oppressive now. There was nothing else to be done, no more words to be said. She tried to ignore her own heart now hammering in her chest.

Eager to find anything to distract herself from her thoughts, Scully grabbed the remote and switched on the TV. She skipped through several channels before stopping on one and cracking a smile.

Mulder must've closed his eyes again because it wasn't until the twang of the theme that she felt him chuff in recognition.

"Must be fate, Mulder."

"Must be."

By _Bonanza_ 's first commercial break, sleep finally sought through the silence to find the both of them.


End file.
